


The Walking Dead: Nick Story

by CaptainSpiderThor



Category: The Walking Dead (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Multi, pre Luke and Nick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4707929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSpiderThor/pseuds/CaptainSpiderThor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my guess as to what happened to Nick, Luke, Pete and Nick's mother starting at the beginning of the outbreak and ending just before the events of Season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Walking Dead: Nick Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first multi-chapter story that I've written in a really long time so please let me know what you think if you get a chance. Tell me what you like, what you don't like, if there are any continuity or spelling errors. Your feedback is very much appreciated.
> 
> As it says in the synopsis this is just my interpretation of what happened in the years leading up to the events of Season 2 as told from Nick's perspective. I will hopefully have Episode 2 up soon. Enjoy!

 

 

            Nick had never been a fan of bars. They were hot, the floors were sticky, and it stunk of piss, vomit, and stale beer. Unfortunately for Nick, he was also really bad at telling Luke no. He could never figure out why that was. Maybe it was how convincing he was when he insisted it was a great idea, or how contagious his excitement was. Nick sometimes wondered if Luke had the power of mind control. But whatever the reason, Nick sat with Luke at the bar close to their house while the handsome bartender with the pierced ear behind the counter poured them their drinks.

            It was a small place, then again, everything in South Carolina was small. The light fixtures that hung from the ceiling were at least twenty years old, casting dull light throughout the room. The walls were covered with wood paneling, random posters and flyers haphazardly plastered around the room. Nick knew they were mostly there to cover holes from out of control bar fights. He was actually the one who made the hole next to the stage at the front of the room when a particularly drunk asshole had called him a faggot and he shoved the guy’s head through the wall. His uncle Pete had really grilled his ass about that one. “You have to be the bigger man,” he had lectured. “Jesus Nick, think before you do shit like that.”

            Luke grabbed the beers from the bartender, handing one of them over to Nick. “We are going to end this the way we started it,” he stated, holding up his beer mug. “Shitfaced.”

            It was odd how chipper Luke was considering the circumstances. Most people would be heartbroken when the project they had spent the last six months on fell to pieces. Thousands of dollars and countless hours of work down the drain and Luke was smiling like he had just won the lottery. Nick couldn’t help but share in his friend’s delight. The last six months might have been a “Colossal waste of fucking time” as Pete would put it, but Nick had never had more fun.

            For once, he got to do what he wanted instead of what his Uncle or Mom wanted him to. He got to spend every day with his best friend, learn that pretty much everything they taught in school was fucking useless, and that having fun was just as okay as making money. He _was_ kind of hoping that Luke, who was a recent college graduate, would have been more helpful in their business venture but it would seem that a major in Art History and a minor in Agriculture, didn’t help much with starting a business.

            Nick laughed, clanking his mug against Luke’s before taking a big gulp. He winced, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Did I ever tell you how much I hate beer?” he asked.

            “Keep drinking, you’ll like it eventually,” Luke answered with a smile, chugging the rest of his own drink.

            “Jesus man, slow down.”

            “We have come here to get drunk,” Luke said. “And that is exactly what I plan on doing. He pushed Nick’s beer back toward him. “Drink.”

            Nick sighed, feigning more annoyance than he actually felt. He chugged the last of his own beer while Luke ordered them two more. “So,” Luke started, twisting in his chair to survey the room, “which one of these lucky gentlemen gets to go home with you tonight?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly at Nick, his eyes bright with amusement.

            “Jesus Luke, shut the fuck up,” Nick hissed, looking around the room to make sure no one had heard. The last thing he needed was everyone knowing about him. This was the south for fuck’s sake, he’d probably be beaten to death, or at the very least tormented mercilessly.

            Luke looked sadly at Nick his face apologetic. “I’m sorry man, I-I didn’t think.” He rubbed the back of his neck absently, looking down at the countertop.

            “It’s okay,” Nick said quietly. “Just watch what you say. I’m not ready for everyone to know yet.” He took a sip from his drink, fiddling with his hat.

            “I know, I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot,” Luke confessed.

            “Yeah you are,” Nick agreed, punching Luke in the arm playfully causing him to spill some of his beer down his chest.

            “Dude.” Luke tried to look upset but erupted into a fit of laughter, grabbing Nick’s hat and placing it backwards on his head.

            “You look like a fucking idiot,” Nick said, making a grab for his hat. He could feel the affects of the alcohol starting to take hold. His head felt a little fuzzy and his lips were starting to go numb.

            Luke dodged Nick’s outstretched hand, almost causing him to fall out of his chair. Both boys erupted into laugher.

            Luke ordered another beer while Nick ordered a Shirley Temple. Luke choked on his drink, spraying the contents of his glass on the already sticky countertop. “Are you serious?” he cried. “Men do not drink _Shirley Temples_. We drink whisky and beer.”

            “So because I’m a guy I have to either drink something that tastes like piss or something that tastes like I’ve just swallowed a cigarette?” Nick asked.

            Luke smacked his fist against the countertop. “Yes.”

            “Here ya go,” the bartender interrupted, placing Nick’s drink in front of him. He leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling Nick’s face. “I’d ignore your friend if I were you,” he suggested. “Seems like a sweet kid, but not the shiniest marble in the bag.” He smiled sweetly at Nick making him wish he had his hat back so he could hide the redness that flooded his cheeks.

            “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered shyly, taking a large gulp from his drink. The bartender winked before heading down the bar to help some more customers.

            “Dude, you are so in,” Luke whispered, a goofy smile contorting his face.

            “You didn’t hear a word he said did you?”

            “No, why? Does he like me instead of you? Tough break man.” Luke clapped Nick on the shoulder and squeezed.

            “You’re drunk.”

            Luke took a moment to think, his face scrunching up in concentration before he let out another bark of laugher. “Yeah, I think I am. And you should be too, drink up, I’m buying.”

            Nick did as he was told, sucking down the rest of the drink and thanking the bartender when he brought him another. Nick had to admit, he was pretty hot. His dark brown hair was styled to look like he had just rolled out of bed but Nick guessed it had probably taken a while to do. His flat stomach peeked out from beneath his shirt when he reached for something on a higher shelf. Nick watched him longingly as he bent over to grab something under the counter.

            “Nick,” Luke shouted, snapping Nick out of his wandering thoughts. He could tell by the amused expression on his friend’s face that Luke had been trying to get his attention for a while before he answered.

            “What?” Nick snapped.

            “I know what to do to get him to like you.” Luke leaned forward like he was about to let Nick in on a very important secret, but Nick couldn’t take him seriously when his cheeks were rosy with alcohol and his words were slurred.

            “Be myself?” Nick suggested.

            “No,” Luke scoffed as if the idea was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. His gaze went straight to the front of the bar where a small stage was placed.

            “Absolutely not,” Nick barked. “No way in hell am I letting you drag me up there again. Not after last time.”

            “It’s not my fault you fell on your face,” Luke protested, his hands flailing as if to better prove his point.

            “You pushed me,” Nick shouted.

            “I patted you encouragingly on the back.”

            “A pat that sent me flying into some dude’s girlfriend with my face in her chest,” Nick retorted. “I got a broken nose because of that, you asshole.”

            Luke burst into laughter, the memory obviously not as upsetting to him as it was to Nick. “C’mon” he encouraged, “it’ll be fun.”

            “No.”

            “Not an option,” Luke whispered. He squeezed Nick’s shoulder again, probably more for balance than anything else before clumsily making his way to the stage. Nick could feel his chest tighten with dread. Why did Luke always have to do this to him? Why couldn’t they just get drunk in peace, pass out at home, and wake up the next day with an exceptionally painful, but ordinary, hangover. Instead Luke felt the need to completely humiliate him for his own personal amusement.

            Nick gulped down the rest of his drink before grabbing his friend’s and finishing that too. He could do this. All he had to do was say no. How hard could it be? He would just stay in his seat. No matter how much Luke begged he would just stay where he was. Let Luke make a fool of himself if he wanted to, but he was having no part of it.

            Luke climbed onto the stage, whispering something to the person who played the music. He grabbed the microphone and tapped it a few times to make sure it worked. The noise making most of the people in the bar look at him. Nick could feel his face turn bright red, knowing what was going to happen next. _Just be strong_ , he told himself.

            “Hello everyone,” Luke began, smiling brightly at some of the pretty girls in the corner who giggled. “My friend and I tried to start a business about six months ago, and as you can probably guess by how drunk I am right now, it went down the crapper.” Some of the people in the crowd chuckled. “So I brought that friend here tonight to blow off some steam, and what better way to do that then to get up here and completely butcher a song for your amusement. He’s right over there actually.” Luke pointed at Nick, everyone in the bar following his finger. Nick flushed further, giving Luke a death glare before flipping him off.

            “He’s kind of shy,” Luke explained with a smile, swaying slightly on the spot. “So I think he needs a round of applause to get him up here.” The crowd erupted with whistling and cheering. Nick laughed, waving them off and shaking his head but Luke was nothing if not persistent. “Come on Nick,” he shouted. “Nick, Nick, Nick.”

            The crowd joined in, someone even grabbing Nick’s arm and pulling him toward the front. Others joined in, pushing him toward the stage. When he climbed up to join Luke the crowd gave another cheer. Nick grabbed the other microphone “Enjoy this face,” he said, pinching Luke’s cheek hard enough to make him flinch, “because it ain’t gonna be this pretty tomorrow.”

            Luke laughed, waving his hand at the person off stage. Nick groaned when he heard the song that Luke had picked. He should have known. The girls in the crowd squealed wildly when the first few familiar notes rang out. Luke started them off, his voice off pitch, but Nick knew that was more for show. Luke could sing really well, he just liked to pretend he couldn’t, especially when he was drunk. “Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feel you.” His eyes were closed in concentration, both hands gripped on the microphone.

            Nick joined in, his voice quiet so people would hopefully focus more on his friend, laughing at how into it Luke was. His friend turned to him on the chorus, grabbing one of his hands in his. “Near, far, WHEREVER YOU ARE,” he belted, the crowd cheering encouragingly. 

            Nick laughed, singing the lyrics along with Luke. The longer the song went on the more Nick loosened up and allowed himself to have some fun. His voice grew louder, though still not loud enough to drown out Luke’s, who was practically screaming.

            When the song was over the crowd clapped loudly, some of the girls even letting out wolf whistles. Luke and Nick crashed back into their seats, both shaking with laughter.

            “See?” Luke asked, clapping Nick on the shoulder. “I told you it’d be fun.”

            “Alright, I’ll admit it, you were right,” Nick conceded, putting his hands up in surrender. “But don’t get used to it.”

            Nick’s drink was suddenly knocked into his lap by a particularly drunk man who had stumbled up to the bar, making him jump up, bright red liquid running down the front of his shirt.

            Nick was about to punch the guy right in the nose when he felt Luke’s hand grip his arm tightly and whisper urgently in his ear. “He’s not worth it Nick, let it go.” Nick’s breaths came out in quick bursts, his heart pumping quickly with anger.

            The guy ordered something before reaching over the bar and smacking the bartender on the ass. The brunette whipped around quickly and smacked the drunk man’s hand away, his finger inches from the guy’s nose in obvious warning. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.

            “Why not?” the man asked. “You faggots like that sort of thing right?” He seemed unperturbed by the bartender’s disgust, grabbing the boy by the arm and yanking him towards himself. The bartender struggled, managing to slap the guy across the face. When the drunk guy grabbed his neck, Nick couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed the guy by the shoulder saying “Hey asshole,” before throwing a punch at the guys’ left cheek. It felt like he had just punched a brick wall. White-hot pain flared up in his hand, making him swear under his breath and cradle his hand to his chest. The guy was stunned for a moment, the punch affecting Nick more than him. He recovered a moment later, grabbing Nick by the front of the shirt and punching Nick so hard in the nose that everything went black.

 

* * *

            Nick awoke to throbbing pain in his hand and face. He groaned loudly, slowly sitting up. Gentle hands were at his sides, steadying him. “Here,” a voice said, placing ice onto his nose. When he was able to get his eyes to focus, he noticed it was the bartender. Nick appeared to be in some sort of stockroom; hundreds of bottles of licker lined the walls around him. The air conditioner worked better in here without all the hot bodies, making the room pleasantly cool. He was sitting on the floor, the boy with the pierced ear kneeling in front of him with a damp cloth clutched in his hand

            “Thanks,” he said, wincing at the ache of his throbbing nose. He ran his tongue along his lower lip, tasting blood.

            “I didn’t need your help, you know,” he said. “I can handle myself.”

            “Sorry,” Nick bit. He could never do anything right. Damned if he did step in to help and damned if he didn’t. He adjusted the ice on his nose, noticing how his voice sounded more nasal than usual. He hoped his nose wasn’t broken.

            “Don’t apologize to me.” He smiled at Nick, taking a damp cloth and gently wiping the blood from his split lip, seeming to not care about Nick’s small outburst. “You’re the one who got your ass kicked.”

            “Yeah, that usually seems to be how it goes,” Nick responded. “I’m Nick, by the way.”

            “Zander.”

            “Nice to meet you. Have you seen my friend? The one I was with earlier?”

            “Yeah, he’s calling a cab.” Zander took the ice from Nick’s face and began dabbing at the dried blood under his nose. “So, why’d you try and beat that guy up? You don’t know me.”

            Nick thought for a moment, wondering how much he should tell him. “When I was younger, my dad used to knock my mom around. He used to do it to me too, when I tried to stop him. I just don’t want anyone else to have to go through what we went through. I don’t like what he called you either.”

            “Is your dad still around?” Zander asked.

            “No,” Nick scoffed. “He was never around much, always on a bender or some shit. One day, he just never came back.”

            Zander stopped wiping at Nick’s face, dipping the rag in a cup of water and ringing out the blood. “I’m sorry.”

            “It’s okay,” Nick shrugged. “My Uncle’s always been there me. Even when I don’t want him to be.” He looked down at his lap, smiling slightly. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You don’t want to hear my sob story.”

            “You must love him very much,” Zander said, tilting Nick’s head up so he was looking at him again, “you’re uncle, I mean.”

            “Yeah I do. He’s a mean old bastard though, always on my ass.”

            The both laughed, Zander handing the ice back to Nick. “Thanks for trying anyway. Hope that idiot didn’t hurt you too bad.”

            “You tell me. Am I still pretty?”

            He sucked in a breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, there wasn’t much there before.”

            “Hey,” Nick yelled indignantly, shoving his shoulder.

            “I’m just kidding,” Zander laughed. “You’re beautiful.”

            Nick could hear the sarcasm but couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks.”

            Zander smiled, his teeth strikingly white. He leaned forward slightly, making Nick’s heart jump in his chest. He paused inches from Nick’s face before removing the ice from his nose. He leaned in slowly, his breath tickling Nick’s skin. His lips were soft against Nick’s and he tasted like mint toothpaste.

            “How did you know?” Nick asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

            “You did order a Shirley Temple.”

 

* * *

            The early morning light that leaked through Nick’s window made his head throb painfully. He flipped himself over trying to open his eyes when he noticed something warm lying next to him in bed. Zander looked peaceful, his hair ruffled and sticking up at weird angles around his head.

            Nick smiled, sitting up and rubbing his temples. He pulled on a pair of jeans and his hat, grateful for the shadow it cast across his face. He chose to not throw on a shirt, the house still warm, even though most of the windows were open. Nick and Luke were too poor, especially now, to afford the luxury of air conditioning. Nick was glad that summer was almost over; he hated the heat, especially with no air. But Nick had suffered through, refusing to ask his mother or uncle for money. He would not admit defeat, not to Pete.  

            Nick and Luke’s house was small. It had to be for them to be able to afford it, particularly since they lived near the city. It was a single story home and at least fifty years old. The paint was peeling off the walls, the original wallpaper with farmhouses on it that Luke hated still covered the walls of the kitchen, and the carpets throughout were stained with God only knew what, but Nick loved it because it was his and Luke’s. Nobody yelled at him when he stayed out until three in the morning, he didn’t have to worry about hiding the guys he brought home, and no mother to nag him when he left a dish in the sink.

            He made his way slowly down the hallway, stopping by the bathroom to empty his bladder. He hoped that Luke had started a pot of coffee. The caffeine would help with his throbbing head. But of course, Luke hadn’t. Nick wasn’t surprised. Luke wouldn’t start a pot on a normal day, let alone one where he was hung over.

            Nick started one himself, closing the curtains over the sink as he filled the pot with water. His whole head ached, from the pain behind his eyes, to swollen nose and lip. He touched the bridge of his nose lightly, grateful that it wasn’t broken. He tested out his right hand too, slowly clenching and unclenching his fingers. Nothing serious as far as he could tell, just the ache of a deep bruise. He made a note to stay away from Pete for a while. The last thing he needed was a lecture.

            He walked forward into the living room, and flipped on the T.V. He turned the volume low enough so it wouldn’t make his headache worse, or wake Luke and Zander. He only half paid attention to what the newscaster was saying as he pulled a couple of aspirin out of one of the drawers.

            “Today, Lee Everett was found guilty for the murder of Georgia state Senator Robert Thurston. He is now on his way to a state prison where he will spend a life sentence without possibility of parole. Sources say Everett…”

            Nick tuned out the rest, turning away from the television and grabbing a piece of bread from the loaf on the counter and shoving it ungracefully into his mouth.

            “Hey man,” Luke groaned, his joints popping as he stretched.  He looked as horrible and Nick felt with bloodshot eyes, tangled hair, and a shirt that was stained and littered with holes. “How ya feelin’?”

            “Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Nick mumbled, his mouth still full. He grabbed two cups and poured each of them some coffee, handing one to Luke along with a few aspirin.

            “Thanks.” Luke tossed the pills in his mouth, washing it down with his coffee. Nick drank deeply from his own mug, thankful for the caffeine.

            “So,” Luke smiled, “how did it go?”

            “How did what go?”

            “Last night, the boy,” Luke waggled his eyebrows.

            Nick blushed, smiling sheepishly. “It was nice.”

            “Nice?” Luke asked angrily. “All I get is nice? I want details man, how was he, how were you, was it kinky? Come on, you gotta give me something.”

            “It was…good, really good,” Nick answered, turning away from his friend and setting his mug down on the countertop.

            “How am I suppose to live vicariously through you when you won’t tell me anything,” Luke sighed.

            “I hope you guys aren’t talking about me.” Nick jumped at the voice, bumping his mug and almost sending it crashing to the floor.

            “Don’t worry, he wouldn’t tell me anything,” Luke scowled.

            Zander walked across the room, looking extremely put together compared to Nick and Luke. His hair was meticulously styled and his clothes seemed to be unwrinkled. He took the cup of coffee Nick offered him, taking a small sip. “I can’t stay long, I’ve gotta be back at the bar soon for inventory and need to go home and change.”

            “Feel free to use our shower if you need to,” Nick offered.

            “That’s okay. Judging by the state of the toilet, I think it’d be cleaner if I used the hose.”

            “Oh it’s not that bad,” Luke protested.

            “I think I saw some mold growing on one of the towels in there,” he stated.

            Nick was cut off from defending their bathroom when the phone rang. He picked it up, holding it between his ear and shoulder. “Hello?”

            “Nicholas?” the voice asked, terrified.

            “Mom?” Luke and Zander were still arguing about the bathroom, Luke insisting that the hair in the sink was not enough to make them a pet dog.

            “Nicholas, something very bad is happening,” she whispered, her voice panicky.

            “Mom, what’s wrong? What are you talking about?” Luke and Zander were looking at him now, but he ignored them.

            “Dead people…I-I didn’t mean to…he just c-came at me,” she sobbed.

            “Who came at you? Are you hurt?” Nick asked, holding the phone close to his ear. There was groaning on the other end of the phone before he heard his mother gasp.

            “Oh my God.”

            Nick heard the phone click, the line going dead. “Mom?” he asked frantically. “Mom! Shit.” He hung up the phone. He had to go over there. He wasn’t sure what had happened but obviously something was wrong. His mom could be hurt. He had to make sure she was okay.

            “Everything alright?” Luke asked.

            “I don’t know. Look, Zander, I’m really sorry, but I have to go. Something’s up with my mom, I have to make sure she’s okay.”

            “Of course,” Zander answered. “I was just about to leave anyway.”

            “Thanks for understanding,” Nick yelled as he ran to his room to get his gun and the keys to his truck. He wasn’t much of a fan of having a rifle in his house but Uncle Pete had insisted. He wasn’t sure why he grabbed it. He didn’t know what he expected to find and wasn’t the best shot, something his Uncle never let him forget.

            “No problem,” he called. “I hope your mom’s okay.”

            Nick ran back into the kitchen, throwing a t-shirt over his head, pausing when he saw someone coming across the back yard. They were walking slowly, stumbling slightly as if they were drunk.  “Who the hell is that?” Nick wondered, walking closer to the sliding door.

            Luke and Zander noticed the person too, both of them peering over Nick’s shoulder. “Something’s not right,” Zander mumbled, as the person got closer. “Look at his face, there’s a chunk missing.”

            Zander was right, there was large piece of flesh missing from his left cheek so you could see his teeth. His skin was also a sickly blue and his eyes were pure white with no pupil. Nick could hear him groaning through the screen, wondering if he should close the glass door. “Hey man, are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

            The person threw himself against the screen making everyone jump. “What the fuck is that thing?” Luke yelled, backing away from the door with Nick and Zander close behind him.

            “I don’t know but, we need to get the hell out of here, I don’t like this at all.” Nick pointed out the window to where more of those strange people were walking in the street. Some were headed toward other houses in the neighborhood. Suddenly, the man crashed through the screen, snarling at Zander who was closest to him. Zander cried out, jumping away from his outstretched hands. Nick grabbed hold of his rifle, raising it to his shoulder like his Uncle had taught him. Just as he was about to pull the trigger the man tripped and fell on top of Nick, sending the rifle skidding across the floor.

            He yelled, his hands flat against the guy’s forehead to keep his snapping teeth away from his throat. He tried to get his legs under the man’s torso so he could kick him off but he was too heavy. He could hear Luke’s raised voice as he tried to pull Nick away from the man, his arms around Nick’s torso. Luke pulled against his friend, managing to pry him away after he kicked the guy hard in the head. There was a cry before the man fell face first onto the floor, one of Luke and Nick’s kitchen knives protruding from his neck.

            Nick looked up and saw Zander standing over him with his eyes wide in shock. There was blood splattered on his hands and face, his mouth hanging open like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what.

            Nick tried to catch his breath, his heart beating so fast he thought it might pound right out of his chest. “Holy shit, where did you learn to do that?”

            “I told you I could take care of myself,” he said, his hands shaking slightly.

            “You k-killed a guy,” Nick stammered.

            “He had no choice Nick, he was going to kill you,” Luke said. He grabbed the gun from the floor before pulling Nick to his feet. “We need to get out of here, now.” Nick could hear the difference in Luke’s voice. He had gone into leadership mode. It always happened when things got tough. Luke was the one who wasn’t afraid to take charge, and could always keep a clear head.

            Nick’s eyes fell to the man on the floor. Blood was now pooling around his head, the smell almost unbearable. It was like rotting flesh. He looked like he had been dead for at least a day, not just a few seconds. Something very bad was happening. They needed to find Nick’s mom.

            Nick ran forward, throwing the busted screen into the back yard before slamming the glass door shut and sliding the lock into place. He noticed more people out in the streets, all of them looking similar to the guy now lying dead on his kitchen floor. Nick heard gunshots in the distance, noticing that most of the people were now headed to where the noise came from. They must be drawn to it, Nick realized.

            Zander pulled the knife from the back of the man’s neck before wiping it on his pants. “What do we do now?” he asked.

            Nick’s head still throbbed making it hard for him to think. He could feel the sweat on his back making his shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin and the frantic beating of his heart in his chest. He turned to Luke, hoping he would know what to do, because Nick had no idea.

            He could tell Luke was just as scared as he was only because he had known him for so long. On the outside Luke looked alert but relatively calm. Nick knew this was only for his and Zander’s benefit. Luke always had to be the strong one; the one that kept it together so everyone else could fall apart. He ran his fingers through his hair trying to think. “We need a plan.”

            “Right,” Nick agreed, “a plan.” He nodded adjusting the hat on his head. “We need to find my mom first, make sure she’s okay.”

            “Yeah, and I want to make sure my parents are okay too. Their houses aren’t that far apart so it shouldn’t be too hard. I think we should find Pete too. If anyone will know what to do right now, it’ll be him.”

            Nick nodded again. If anyone could survive this it would be Pete. He spent weeks roughing it in the woods every year, even dragging Nick along sometimes. He knew how to hunt, and find fresh water and shelter. He just hoped Pete and his mother were all right. His stomach clenched uncomfortably at the thought of them becoming one of those things.

            “You can come with us too, if you want,” Luke offered Zander.

            “That’s okay, I have a sister who lives not too far from here. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

            Nick nodded. “We should stock up on weapons before we leave,” he suggested. “Who knows how many more of those things we’ll run into.”

            “Good idea,” Luke agreed. He tossed Nick the rifle, running to the coat closet and pulling out a baseball bat, Zander deciding to stick with the knife. Nick grabbed a knife for himself and Luke as well, in case they lost their other weapons or ran out of ammo.

            “They’re getting closer.” Zander pointed to the back yard where more of the sick people were wandering around.

            Luke took the lead, heading toward the door with the others close behind. Nick gripped his gun tightly, the knuckles of his right hand throbbing painfully, as he reached for the door handle. He turned to look behind him, noticing that some of the people were banging against the glass. Zander seemed transfixed by them, his feet glued to the spot but his knife held high. “Zander, I think you should move, what if the glass doesn’t hold?” Nick warned, taking a cautious step toward the brunette, his gun raised.

            One particularly large man threw himself against the glass, shattering it and sending pieces flying into the room. Zander yelled, coving his face with his arms. One of the things grabbed him by the neck and bit savagely into his shoulder. There were so many of them gathered now, where the hell had they come from? Nick ran forward, raising the gun to his shoulder and aiming a bullet at the thing’s head. His hands shook horribly, and his breath was shallow and uneven. He tried to relax, holding his breath and squeezing the trigger.

            For a split second the whole world stopped, all sound seeming to be sucked out of the room. Then it snapped back, screaming, groaning, and a horrible ringing in Nick’s ears. He saw the thing fall to ground sighing with relief. He looked up at Zander to make sure he was okay before noticing the blood seeping through the fingers that he had clutched around his neck. Nick’s heart stopped as he ran forward to catch Zander before he fell to the floor.

            “Shit, shit, shit,” Nick raddled, pressing his own hands to Zander’s neck in hopes of stopping the bleeding. He made gurgling noises, choking on his own blood. “I’m so sorry,” Nick sobbed. “I didn’t mean to…shit!”

            The gun shot had caught more attention; another crowd was now heading toward the house, low groans echoing around them.

            Nick could feel the heart beat in Zander’s neck fading. “Fuck, please don’t die,” he begged. “We’ll get you help.” He could hear Luke yelling, more gunshots making his ears ring.

            Zander let out a few more ragged breaths before his body went limp, the hand that was held to his throat smacking lifelessly against the tile floor

            “He’s dead man, we gotta go,” Luke commanded. When Nick made no movements Luke screamed “Now!” He grabbed Nick under the armpits and hauled him to his feet, more shots ringing out.

            “He’s dead,” Nick mumbled, Zander’s blood hot and sticky on his hands. “It’s all my fault.”

            “It was an accident,” Luke assured, pulling Nick along as he backed toward the door. “Please, Nick, we have to go. I’m running out of bullets and these things are everywhere.”

            Nick saw slight movement out of the corner of his eye and looked down to see Zander looking at him, only his eyes were milky white and lifeless like the man he had killed. He began to crawl towards Nick, blood still leaking out of his neck. He grabbed tightly to Nick’s leg, knocking him off his feet. Zander’s teeth were bared and a low growl escaped his slashed throat.

            Luke placed Nick’s gun against the back of Zander’s head. The shot made more blood splatter against his face and chest. Nick pushed Zander’s limp body away, scrambling to get away from him.

            “What the fuck was that?” Nick yelped. “How did he come back, he was dead.”

            “I don’t know, but we need to leave, there’s more coming.”

            Luke was right. There had be at least thirty more of those things climbing through the windows and pushing against the side of the house. 

            They ran outside towards Nick’s truck, more of the dead people slowly walking after them. Luke hopped into the driver’s seat, Nick throwing him the keys, and jammed the car into gear. He sped out of the driveway, hitting several of the walkers on his way out.

            The road was full of empty cars but most of them were smashed together on the side of the road. “Shit, this is so fucked up,” Nick exhaled, pressing his hands to the side of his head.

            “Let’s just focus on finding our parents okay?” Luke suggested, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white.

            “God, I hope they’re okay,” Nick whispered.

 

* * *

 

 

 

            Nick’s mother’s house seemed oddly quiet compared to the rest of town. There was no screaming, no gunshots, and no dead people. It was like they had walked into a ghost town.

            Nick’s stomach clenched uncomfortably as he stared at his mother’s house. The shudders on the first floor windows were ripped off, the glass broken. The front door hung on its hinges, long claw mark covering the front of it.

            “I’m sure she’s fine,” Luke assured. Nick nodded, heading into the house, the knife he had grabbed earlier raised high.

            The living room was just as bad as the outside. Most of the furniture was knocked over, pictures frames lay smashed on the floor, and the clay imprint of Nick’s hand from when he was in kindergarten lay in pieces. “Mom,” Nick called. “Mom it’s Nick, are you here?”

            “I’ll finish down here, you check upstairs,” Luke suggested.

            “If you find anything, just holler.” Luke nodded as Nick made his way up the stairs.

            Nick’s heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest, his breathing shallow. What if she was dead? What if she was one of those things? He didn’t know what he’d do if she was. He found himself remembering the little things like how she was always pushing her hair out her eyes, or how she tilted her head back when she laughed.

            He checked the bathroom first, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He remembered the time when he was ten and Luke had bet that he could climb the tree faster than Nick could. Nick, who was never one to back down from a challenge, bet all of his Halloween candy that he could beat Luke. Nick had been winning when he lost his footing and fell. His mother had carried him crying to this bathroom and gently cleaned his wounds, singing quietly as she did so.

            He checked her bedroom next, quietly calling her name so he wouldn’t draw any more walkers. Her clothes were hung neatly in her closet, nothing out of place. There were pictures of Nick and Pete hung on the walls, one from when they had all gone to the lake by his uncle’s hunting cabin. He remembered the warmth and the laughter, how he and Luke had had a cannonball contest and soaked Uncle Pete and his mom with water from the waves.

            Nick’s room was last. Nothing had changed since he moved out four years ago. The blue bedding he had used since he was teenager was neatly folded on the bed and posters of bands he didn’t like anymore hung on the walls.

            He heard something in his closet; so quiet he wondered if he imagined it. He raised his knife higher, slowly making his way across the room. _Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead_ , he silently chanted in his head, sweat running down his spine.

            Nick yanked the door open, grunting when something hard collided with his stomach. He fell to the floor, his hands gripping his midsection as he gasped, trying to catch his breath.

            “Oh my God, Nicholas,” his mother cried, kneeling next to him. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I thought you were one of those things. Are you alright?”

            “I’m fine,” he assured her, sitting up and hugging her tightly. “I’m glad you’re okay. When I saw the house I thought…I thought something bad had happened.”

            “I’m fine for now. I-,” she paused looking at Nick’s face. “Nicholas, what happened to your face?” she asked, her fingers lightly touching the bridge of his bruised nose. Please don’t tell me you got into another fight.”

            “It’s nothing, it was stupid.”

            “Honey, we’ve talked about this.”

            “Mom please, we have a bunch of dead people walking around and you want to lecture me about getting into a fight?”

            “I just care about you and that temper of yours is going to get you into a lot more than a fight one of these days if you’re not careful.” She then noticed the blood covering Nick’s hands. He looked down, wiping some of it one his already filthy jeans. “What happened?”

            “Nick,” Luke called from down stairs. “Could ya come down here please?”

            “Is that Luke?” she asked, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank god, he’s okay.”

            Nick headed down the stairs, his mother close behind him. He saw Luke first, a grin spread across his friend’s face when he saw Nick’s mom. “Hey, Lucy.” They embraced, Lucy’s hand petting Luke’s hair affectionately.

            Nick’s eyes wandered to the other person in the room. Blood was splattered across the front of his shirt and dried into his beard. His hair was just as short as it was the last time Nick had seen him, though it was now littered with more gray. A large knife was strapped to his leg and a rifle was gripped tightly in his hand.

            “Uncle Pete,” he breathed, running forward and hugging him tightly.

            “Hey son,” Pete answered, taking Nick’s face in his hands and examining him closely. “You alright.”

            “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.”

            “Good. You alright Lucy, Luke?”

            “I’m good,” Luke answered.

            “Me too.”

            “Good. We need to get outta here. It’s quiet now, but more of those things could be lurking anywhere, just waiting to attack. We need to grab as many supplies as we can, water, canned food, clothes; whatever you can throw into a duffel, and head out. I’ve got a hunting cabin a few hours from here. It’s got more supplies and plenty of weapons to keep us safe. We can hide out there until this whole thing gets sorted out.”

            Lucy nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

            “What about my parents?” Luke asked. “I want to make sure they’re okay.”

            “I’m sorry Luke, but it’s too dangerous.”

            “Come one Pete,” Nick pleaded. “What if it were me? Wouldn’t you want to know if I was okay?”

            “Of course I would,” Pete sighed, “but this town is overrun. It’s too dangerous to just go running around out there. I don’t want you boys gettin’ hurt. We don’t know how long this lull in activity is going to last, and I’d like to get out of here without anyone getting hurt.”

            “I have to go,” Luke insisted. “I’ll go by myself if I have to, but I have to make sure my mom and dad are okay.”

            “I’ll go with you,” Nick offered, turning to look at his uncle. “You and mom collect as many supplies as you can and throw them in my truck,” he tossed his keys at Pete, “while Luke and I look for his parents. Their house is only a few minute walk away, we’ll meet back here in half an hour.”

            “Be careful sweetheart,” his mother cautioned.

            “You remember how to shoot that gun?” Pete asked, pointing at the one clutched in his nephew’s hand.

            Nick swallowed, Zander’s face popping into his head. He nodded, “Yes.”

            “Keep your eyes peeled at all times and never let your guard down,” Pete instructed. “Don’t trust _anyone_.”

            “We’ll be careful,” Luke promised.

 

* * *

            “Shit,” Luke hissed, looking at the busted front door of his parent’s house. Nick had forgotten how huge the place was. Luke’s parents owned a farm, growing crops like corn and wheat, and tending to all sorts of animals like cows, pigs, and chickens. Luke had always hated helping his parents with the chores but Nick didn’t mind. He liked to hang out with the animals, even helping Luke’s father birth a few cows.

            The house itself was enormous, one of the biggest in town with bright red shudders and a wrap around porch. The barn and fields out back looked untouched, but it was hard to tell from so far away.

            Nick followed Luke inside, his gun raised. He tried to keep his hands from shaking as they walked through into the entryway, broken glass crunching under their feet. “Do you think they’re okay?”

            “I don’t know.” Nick looked around the large living room, his gun poised in front of him. Furniture was tipped on its side, there was a hole in the wall by the front door, most of the windows were broken, and blood stained the carpet. “I hope so.” He looked at the stairs in front of them; blood spattering most of the steps. “We should stick together, in case something happens. I think we should check the downstairs first, then upstairs.”

            Luke nodded, looking close to tears. He led the way, his baseball bat clutched tightly at his side. Nothing was downstairs that they could see, at least nothing walking around. They headed upstairs next, following the trail of blood to the master bedroom. Luke paused at the door.

            “Maybe I should go first,” Nick suggested. “I do have the gun.” Luke nodded, taking a few steps back.

            Nick moved forward, pressing his ear to the door. He could hear something moving around inside, but whether they were alive or dead, he wasn’t sure. He opened the door slowly, raising his gun up but stopping dead in his track when he saw what was in front of him.

            “Oh God,” he heard Luke gasp behind him. “Jesus Christ.”

            Luke’s father was kneeling on the floor in front of them, his face shoved into his wife’s stomach. He pulled out her intestines with his teeth, making a satisfied noise as he swallowed them greedily. He heard Luke retching behind him, his own stomach clenching uncomfortably. He couldn’t believe what this disease did to people. Luke’s father had been tough, but he was a good man. He had taught Nick to drive because Pete had made him too nervous. He always greeted Nick with a smile, letting him sip from his beer if he promised not to tell. Now the warm brown eyes that were so much like Luke’s were white and lifeless.

            Luke’s father lifted his head at the noise of his son sobbing, turning to look at the two boys. He growled, moving toward Nick slowly. Nick shot him between the eyes, quiet tears staining his cheeks. He them moved to Luke’s mother and shot her as well, gently closing her eyelids before doing the same to Luke’s father.

            Nick moved toward his friend, pulling him in close and burying his face in Luke’s neck. “I’m so sorry.”

            Luke sobbed, clawing at Nick desperately, his fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. His tears were hot on Nick’s neck, his whole body shaking with grief. Nick held on tightly, not sure what to say. He decided to stay quiet, just letting Luke grieve. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. “I’m sorry Luke, but we’ve got to go,” Nick whispered.

            His friend nodded, pulling away and rubbing fiercely at his puffy eyes. “We should grab what we can from the house,” he said quietly, pulling a duffel bag from his parent’s closet. “We don’t know how long we’ll have to be holed up in that cabin.”

            “I’ve got this,” Nick promised, taking the bag from his friend. “I’ll meet you outside, okay?”

            Luke nodded numbly making his way back down the stairs. Nick placed, his hands on his head, pressing at his temples. “God fucking dammit,” he swore, kicking the frame of the large bed.

 

* * *

            “You boys alright?” Pete asked, as they walked through the door, noticing the look on Luke’s face.

            Luke nodded, grabbing one of the bags from the floor. “His parents didn’t make it,” Nick whispered.

            Nick’s mother gasped, running to Luke and pulling him into a hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Luke looked uncomfortable but didn’t pull away.

            “Poor kid,” Pete said sadly, patting Luke on the shoulder as he made his way out to the truck to dump the last of the supplies into the back. “You all ready to go?”

            Lucy pulled away from Luke, her hands cradling Luke’s face for a moment before she headed out to meet her brother, leaving Luke and Nick alone.

            Nick reached out to his friend but Luke flinched away. “I’m sorry,” Luke muttered, his hands rubbing his arms despite the warm temperature. “I just can’t.”

            “It’s okay,” Nick assured him, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I get it.” They headed out to the truck, both climbing into the back seat without a word.

            The drive was long and mostly quiet. Lucy and Pete talked quietly in the front seat, their voices hard to hear over the engine. Nick’s head rested against the window, his eyes staring blankly at the trees and walkers they passed. He kept seeing Zander lying there on the floor with blood pouring out of his neck. He had killed someone, actually killed someone. Not someone who deserved it either, but an innocent boy who had done nothing to him; nothing except save his life. He remembered when Pete had taken him hunting years ago. He couldn’t bring himself to kill a deer and that was just some stupid animal, but now he had killed another human being. How was he was suppose to live with that?

            Luke had fallen asleep hours ago, his head resting on Nick’s shoulder. The world had changed so much in such a short period of time, even Luke. He still smelled like his aftershave, though now it was mixed with the tang of blood. His face was relaxed while he was asleep but his eyes were puffy from crying and his favorite shirt was now stained brown from dry blood. And of course, he had just lost his parents.

            Nick swallowed against the lump in his throat, picturing their bodies falling lifelessly to the ground after he had shot them. Nick had known them almost as well as Luke had. He had spent so many nights at Luke’s house for sleepovers, went with them on vacation, even accidently called them mom and dad a few times. It was so strange to think that two people who had been so loving and kind could turn into man-eating monsters.

            “We’re here,” his uncle announced, pulling Nick out of his thoughts. “Welcome to your new home.”

 

 

 

                                                                                                               To be continued…


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